Heart of a Youja
by MYSTIC1
Summary: A man's soul becomes trapped as a youja. Trying to cope with his new surroundings, he discovers that the existence of the netherworld, the Ancient One, and the Ronin Warriors is more complex and very different than what he first believed.
1. Default Chapter

"Welcome to where time stands still  
  
No one ever leaves and no one ever will  
  
Can't hold it  
  
It burns  
  
Each night I cry in pain  
  
And blood tears I cry  
  
Endless grief remained inside  
  
And blood tears I cry  
  
Endless grief remained inside" - Blood Tears by Blind Guardian from CD "Nightfall in Middle-Earth"  
  
Screaming with deep blood thirst, he charged towards his hated foes. Arrows pierced him, blocking the flow of vile acidic chemicals in his body. One arrow pierced near his eye; blood spilled out almost as though he was crying the red liquid. He gasped in pain and snarled soundlessly. The vile acidic chemicals piled up, ready to burst his body with hate.  
Suddenly, his body stiffened and numbed. The hatred within him formed a sinister bridge for him to escape from his current torture. He fled down the bridge. The hatred gave him power, hardening and hollowing his body. All memories and all emotions of his family coalesced into a vague, distant weakness. A youja in the netherworld did not rely on the good of humanity for strength.  
  
"Uhn . . ." he groaned, flinging his left arm out onto the floor to pull himself up. He tried to remember what happened before returning to consciousness. A memory of his son excelling as a captain and a memory of his daughter writing poetry came sluggishly to his mind. Those memories usually filled him with joy and pride, yet now he felt nothing. The memories still existed, but he instead felt a strange sorrow at not reexperiencing those joys.  
He stood up, hearing the clinks of metal as he did so. He pushed aside the dizziness. Where was he? He could not breathe, but that did not impair him. He recalled his talks and strolls with his wife, his parents' affection, and his schooldays. The memories came easily but seemed empty, devoid of any form of good emotion.  
What happened to me? He wondered. He was right next to a putrid yellow river with a bridge connecting the two banks. A castle stood stolidly in the distance. The sky was a yellow-orangeish haze. The grass sounded crisp and brittle underneath his armor-feet. He stepped hesitantly closer to the castle and gasped, feeling nothing.  
Then, he looked at his feet, at his hands, and at the rest of his body. He was in youja armor, doomed to be a creature of the netherworld. "How?" he inquired aloud to himself. For the majority of his life, he tried to follow the path of the nine virtues. He was respectful and just to his servants and peasants. He trusted people within good reason. He sought self-knowledge. He was loyal to the people and the causes to which he pledged himself. He tried to understand the feelings of others . . . the list continued. So why was he a youja?  
How peculiar that he was able to contemplate his life and analyze his soul now that he was away from those who put hatred into his heart. Now he had no one upon whom to swear vengeance - No one for him to consider gutting and emasculating. He was new to this unusual world and ignorant of its inhabitants. He could not hate who he did not know.  
"This cannot be right," he muttered to himself. He stared at the gigantic castle in the distance. For all he knew, that monstrosity probably belonged to Talpa. It certainly fit the descriptions.  
Perturbed, he turned around and walked in the opposite direction.  
  
He traveled for a complete day before encountering anyone. He felt nothing. He neither breathed nor felt a heart beating within the metaphysical armor that was now his body. He did not notice the wind blowing until he saw the sickenly orange leaves of the eternally drooping trees sway back and forth. No longer could he smile at a warm gentle breeze of spring or shiver at the cold winds of winter. A youja feels nothing, not even the most basic sensations. He also lacked a mouth. No smiles for a blissful day, no teeth to clench together in anger.  
Alas! Beauty and sensations could not exist in a place of wickedness and numbness!  
He tried to follow the path of the nine virtues, yet he was a youja. He did not understand why. For what reason should a man of virtue be condemned to suffering in the netherworld?  
He began to hope for someone to tell him that he was mistaken, that this world was not the one of evil and treachery, that some beauty and kindness could exist in this place.  
Suddenly, to his surprise he saw a human - a mortal boy around the age of eleven, arms chained up by numerous small metal spikes to a wooden beam in the middle of a rotten field. The legs dangled several feet from the ground, gravity and the chains tearing his arms. Rage immediately filled the young youja, elating him and filling him with power. How dare someone torture a child this way and leave that child to bleed to death! Infuriated, he ran towards the boy and started to unwrap the spiky chains from the child's arms. Then, he set the boy down and tried to calm himself.  
A violent rage was all that the young youja could feel. He knew he should be worried and concerned for the human boy's safety. After all, he once worried frightfully about the well-being of his sons when they encountered danger. Instead, he felt rage and this boy's terror. Strange yet familiar thoughts bubbled to his mind. His enemies . . . he wanted to slaughter them, to see their blood splatter across the ground, to have them cower and tremble with terror at his presence . . . This boy's intense fear towards him tantalized him; he could experience the power that he dreamed of!  
Perplexed at the changes within his mind, the young youja merely stared ruefully as the boy gained courage and ran off.  
"Thief!" a voice screamed out.  
The young youja jolted out of his reverie, and reflex took over. He pulled a short sword out of his side (he hadn't noticed that before) and blocked the blow of an incoming blade. He tried to parry the blade away, but his opponent hissed and pressed it closer. Two glowing red eyes of evil filled his vision. Had the young youja still been human, he would have felt fear. Instead, his rage once again swelled up and he desired to kill this stranger.  
Suddenly, two sharp and long katanas intervened and separated the quarreling youja. "Cease this fighting!" a firm noble voice commanded them.  
The challenger stepped back and snarled, "and what is your business here?"  
"I come on behalf of the Only World Order," said the tall muscular youja with the two katanas. He had a narrow angular helmet with a white faceplate. The rest of the helmet was yellow, coming at sharp points on the sides. A red plume flowed out of the middle of the helmet. A bright yellow triangular breastplate formed his torso. From the top of the breastplate was a long grayish-silver cape with red trimmings around the sides. The cape seemed to serve as shoulder pads, judging by its thickness.  
"My leader!" respectfully exclaimed the challenger who had attacked the young youja. "I serve the Only World Order," he bowed down, surprised at having business from the Order.  
The tall and muscular swordsman reprimanded the other firmly, "I came to remind you of the meeting, and that all new youja are also required. Did you not realize that this youja is new to our world? Did your nether spirits not fly in frenzy at the sensation of a new arrival? Did your pool of nether energy not bubble and rave?"  
"They did as you have said, my leader," the challenger was suddenly humbled; business for the Order was being discussed.  
The young youja's mind reeled dizzily as he tried to control the evil desire for slaughter and battle ebbing and swelling back and forth. He fell to the ground and clutched his helmet. "I will give you power! I will give you victory!" the desire seemed to say silently. Remembering what the Ancient had tried to teach him, the young youja attempted a chant of virtue. Unfortunately, the chant of virtue made him feel nauseous.  
The one with the two katanas said calmly, "I will take him to the meeting of the Order. All youja will be needed for the Only World Order to defeat Talpa and regain its lands."  
"Yes, my leader."  
The tall and muscular youja with the two katanas waited calmly yet impatiently for the youngling's nausea to pass. He did not want to waste time, but he understood and remembered the difficulties of accustoming oneself to existence as a nether creature. Once the new arrival started to regain his ability to stand, he commanded the youngling to follow and walked off.  
The young youja hurried quickly after his protector who had sheathed his katanas onto the armored back of a deep black tiger. The new arrival stared at the animal curiously and at the animal's sentient eyes. As far as he knew only the Ancient One traveled with a tiger that also possessed intelligence. Nervous, the youngling quickly changed his attention from the animal to his protector. "Thank you for saving me," he said gratefully and finally introduced himself, "My name is Arden. May I know your name?"  
The tall and muscular youja answered in a disgruntled tone, "My name is Saberstryke."  
Arden, the new arrival, nodded. Saberstryke had saved his life and (judging from the tone and contents of the conversation) had insisted that no young youja should be attacked; Saberstryke also wanted to unite the nether world against Talpa, the most abhorred and evil of all demons. Arden, the young youja, dared to hope. Perhaps Saberstryke contained a little bit of virtue within him. Arden ventured to test the swordsman's virtue and admitted, "I . . . I used to follow the path of the Ancient One. I was his student."  
Saberstryke paused in his step, startled. He regained his composure in an instant and continued walking. "An ill fate will befall to you if you tell every youja about your history," the swordsman advised the youngling.  
"May you please explain why?" Arden inquired. If some virtue existed . . .  
"Because we are the Ancient One's forsaken."  
Then, they passed a river, and Arden the new youja finally saw himself in the reflection. His armor, perfectly conforming to his short and muscular now dead human body, was an ashen gray with reds and yellowed melding together the pieces of armor. His round helmet was a pale blue like a frozen corpse with ridges and small numerous round bulges spreading across the back and top from where the ears should have been. Empty sockets replaced where his eyes should have been. Underneath the right socket was a giant tear of blood.  
As Arden stared at his blood tear, Saberstryke's words forever haunted him: "We are the Ancient One's forsaken." 


	2. Chapter2

"Nightfall.  
  
Quietly it crept in and changed us all  
  
Nightfall.  
  
Quietly it crept in and changed us all  
  
Nightfall.  
  
Immortal land lies down in agony  
  
How long shall we  
  
Mourn in the dark  
  
The bliss and the beauty  
  
Will not return  
  
Say farewell to sadness and grief  
  
.  
  
Filled with anger, a flamed our hearts  
  
Full of hate, full of pride  
  
We screamed for revenge" - Nightfall by Blind Guardian from their CD "Nightfall in Middle-Earth"  
  
The journey to the castle of the Only World Order was long and trying on the new arrival's armor body. The entire trip would have taken merely a few days, but his traveling companion tripled the amount of time and stopped frequently at all the other youja castles. Snarling, their inhabitants prepared to fight them, but once Saberstryke announced, "I come on behalf of the Only World Order" the other youja treated them with perfect grace and courtesy.  
"You are both famished," said lord Kapei, welcoming them into his castle. "Feast before you continue on your travels."  
Never hesitating, Saberstryke promptly accepted Kapei's invitation and maneuvered effortlessly down the hallways. Arden stared at Kapei in bewilderment and hurried to match the swordsman's pace; he remembered that he was still new to the ways of the netherworld. The new arrival did not understand why the lord of the castle wanted to slaughter them one moment and then care for them the next moment.  
Also, Arden added to his thoughts, how did he know we are hungry? How can a youja eat? Those new questions occupied the youngling's mind as he realized that he did feel faint as though hungry. He suddenly missed his tongue, although his body felt no discomfort.  
Without warning, Saberstryke stopped his march through the winding hallways. Arden stared curiously from his protector to the sludge-like yellow-orange pool as the swordsman seated himself cross-legged next to it. The newcomer sat a few feet away from him in the same position near the pool. The new arrival sensed something, almost like fumes that touched his mind instead of his nose. Mentally salivating, he greedily consumed the fumes; thoughts and sensations came from the vapors and bubbled inside his trapped soul.  
His foes deserved to suffer! Kill them! Watch them kneel in pieces! Pain and pleasure mingled together in a thick dark substance; images of blood and tears floated up to satisfy him.  
Arden gasped, bewildered and horrified, as he scurried away from the pool. The sludge-like yellow-orange liquid beckoned him. Yes, he did want to torture his enemies; he wanted to see their blood spray across the ground; he wanted them to suffer. The nether pool desired to satisfy his cravings, but . . .  
Metal footsteps clanged against the stone stairway, coming closer with each second. Stopped feeding long ago, Arden glanced up at the shadow that approached. Then, the shadow stepped into his view, revealing a tiny yet muscular youja. Agility was perhaps this youja's greatest attribute - agility and the long knives that existed on top of his gray glove-fingers. His body armor was a dusty brown, and his limbs were of a deep black. Two sharp horns protruded horizontally out of his oval sickly yellow helmet. The sockets were slanted in anger, and the open mouth grimaced into a scowl.  
"You are a youngling; am I correct?" inquired the fierce yet tiny youja.  
"Yes," with a quick nod, "My name is Arden; I arrived here about a week ago."  
"I am Tosura, a warrior for my lord Kapei. You do not have a lord yet, and Kapei does not need any more warriors. I wonder if we shall fight against each other one day."  
Feel your enemies suffer, the nether liquid seemed to call out to Arden. "What is that?" the young youja asked with cautious curiosity about the pool.  
Eagerly anticipating a future battle, Tosura answered, "That is a nether pool from which we feed. Grief, agony, and hatred from the mortal world collect in the pools. We can summon other creatures such as the spirits and soldiers from these natural gateways between the two worlds. These are our greatest source of power, and hundreds of wars have been fought for their control. No one wants to claim the oceans, however. The oceans belong to the beasts." Tosura sighed, "I unfortunately must wait until Talpa is defeated and his lands divided. I sense intense power laying dormant within you, Arden; you will be an intriguing challenge for me to kill."  
Now, was that a complement or a threat or both? Alas, why did the world have to confuse him so much? The new arrival decided to make his conclusion after he became accustomed to the nether world. He glanced at Saberstryke, still feeding, completely undisturbed, cut off from the outside. He wondered how the swordsman and the others became trapped as youja. He still could not understand why a follower of the Ancient would find himself trapped.  
  
Finally, they arrived at the meeting of the Order. A castle existed for that sole purpose and was occupied only during the meetings. "There is an order of youja that wishes for the demise of Talpa and his Dynasty. It is called the Only World Order. To become a part of this order, you must vow never to wage war upon the mortal world. The sole wars that we fight are amongst ourselves of the nether world. That is the meaning of the name of the Only World Order. Only war inside the Nether World."  
The new arrival glanced incredulously at Saberstryke as the elder and he entered the room. Arden stared in astonishment at the giant congregation. Hundreds of youja filled the huge hall. He once believed that youja were bloodthirsty and only cared about slaughter, sparing none. Yet these hundreds of youja wanted to spare the mortal world, full of millions! The truly evil and wicked cared only for power and saved no one. However, these hundreds of youja strangely held onto some remnant of virtue, choosing to save the mortal world by containing their warfare solely in the netherworld where they could not reach the innocents.  
"This is Justice!" Arden exclaimed, amazed and shocked beyond belief. Suddenly, the congregation spun to face him; the eyes started to glow. "This is Justice, a small part of Virtue!" Arden explained, still in a startled exclamation. Then, he realized they need a more thorough explanation, so he elaborated humbly, "We all become youja because our hearts gave in to evil, yet we still contain a small part of Virtue since we have enough Justice to accept our punishment as youja in the nether world."  
"Who is this fool? Who is this putrid wretch?" a stout muscular youja growled furiously. "Saberstryke, you brought this idiot here, didn't you?" The eyes of the congregation were glowing hellishly red - pools of blood.  
"He is new to our world and our ways," the lean swordsman said quietly, embarrassed but never losing his calm composure. "He recently arrived a little over a week ago."  
The hundreds of youja scowled disdainfully yet accepted Saberstryke's answer. The eyes stopped glowing but strangely never lost their intensity. There could be no other logical reason for the fool's outburst. Arden and Saberstryke waited nervously until the group seemed to calm down a little. The congregation returned to its chattering.  
"Well," the swordsman spoke up, relieved, to the newcomer, "I must find some of my former comrades. I hope that you find a lord to serve or a weak lord for you to conquer." Then, he promptly stalked away, his swift and agile movements catlike.  
Alarmed, Arden tried to follow him, but after he took a few steps, the elder youja was already hidden in the crowd. Arden stared helplessly at his direction. The congregation continued chattering, ignorant of his presence. "I have to make myself known to this world, I guess," he muttered to himself as he walked off, opposite to Saberstryke's direction. The congregation was divided into numerous smaller groups, and he listened to several.  
One conversation consisted of: "Yes, I killed Mordth. His lands increased my power twofold. I now outrank you." "Stupid slaves tried to 'purify' the river; I had to impale all of them. Then, I used all of the extra energy to steal some of Orgmir's lands. I'm still rather powerful." "Any original punishment?" "There are many different places to impale a person . . ."  
That rather disturbed Arden, so he went to a different small group. "The weather has been really nice lately." "Yes, it rained, and all of the slaves penned themselves in their shacks for days." "At least you have huge energy pools and still fed. The same thing happened to Anwerath, but he couldn't feed during the storms, so he was forced to yank a slave out of the pens and sacrifice him in the rains."  
The conversation next to that group intrigued Arden the most. "We never used to have slaves," instantly caught the newcomer's attention.  
"And would you rather we scavenge like beasts?" retorted the stout youja that had yelled at Arden. His limbs were a pale blue while his torso and armor pads were of a darker shade. A long, thin blood-red spider emblem resided in the middle of his breastplate. His eyes were squinted and narrowed in eternal hate. His lower lip curved up with two sharp protruding teeth like snake fangs from his gapping maw, ravenous for more destruction. A streak of black flowed up from the "nose" and then divided in two, resembling a bull's horn. From the top of his bone-colored helmet protruded a single horn like a crescent moon; a deep downward curve split the horn into two sharp points, the lowest point in front of the highest.  
The newcomer inquired meekly, "What about us never having slaves before? I . . . I apologize. I'm ignorant of the history of the netherworld."  
With little more tolerance, a third youja informed him, "We do not need slaves to consume the dark energy and survive. In the beginning, we relied on pools, which rose or shrank according to the conditions on the mortal world. The negative emotions from humans in the mortal world filled the pools from which we fed, and thus we were able to survive without slaves. However, during the first invasions against the mortal world, humans were brought over here. That's how we got our slaves."  
The stout youja spoke up irritably, "And just in case you are curious, young wretch, we of the Only World Order oppose invasions of the mortal world, because our existence is connected to the mortal world. If we invade, the humans will all die from despair. Then, we will have no power source and then we will also die."  
Arden bowed slightly, "I apologize for my earlier ignorant and ill- informed outburst. My name is Arden. May I have the courtesy of knowing your name, sir?"  
The stout youja stared at him warily with disdain before answering, "My name is Saranbo. Now, be gone."  
An inward sigh, the new arrival walked away. He did not want to be near those who disapproved of his presence. He tried looking for the groups that he first encountered in the meeting, but he either could not find them or they also walked off to form new groups and their conversations no longer interested him.  
Arden groaned inwardly. Again, he was alone in the midst of a crowd of hundreds. He could not afford to be isolated in a strange and dangerous world. He needed to find an ally, a comrade. The vast majority was too busy talking to notice a new youja. He marched to the edge of the crowd and began circling it to search for a solitary youja like himself that would converse with him and befellow him.  
Eventually, he found a bitterly-isolated figure leaning against the right frame of a hallway entrance. The figure's back faced the crowd. The soot-black armor was slender yet also heavily muscular, giving him an almost bulky appearance. Slavery chains, the color of fresh blood, were designed on top of the empty-colored armor. Long strands of scant yellowish-white hair, made brittle by dried blood that would never come out, fell down from the back of the ashen gray helmet. Intrigued by such an unusual presence, Arden approached him curiously but then unfortunately saw that spiteful stout youja standing in front of the alienated wretch.  
"So, have you finally come to accept yourself as a spawn of evil, traitor?" Saranbo sneered.  
The miserable wretch had his head lowered in humiliation. The slavery chains with the color of bright fresh blood also covered his helmet.  
"Pathetic hypocrite!" Saranbo jeered. "You despise youja. Why not claim the cause of virtue and kill what you hate most?"  
Slowly, without moving his helmet, the wretched creature spoke in broken tones, "The justice of nature catches all of us in the final throes of death. Punishment and rewards are given in correspondence with our hearts." He started to make quiet hacking sounds as though choking on habitual blood tears.  
"Ah! He speaks!" the spiteful stout youja continued.  
Arden scowled inwardly and intervened on the wretch's behalf. Saranbo really irritated him. The newcomer tried a somewhat diplomatic approach, "Listen, you need to stop. Can't you tell that he is suffering already? Why prolong his sorrows?"  
Eyes again glowing red, Saranbo thrust him to the ground, "Silence, youngling!" Arden was not sure if he lost consciousness or if Saranbo's attack was extraordinarily quick. His awareness switched instantly from standing up to lying on the floor with a halberd ready to slice him. "How dare you interfere!"  
Evil energy within began to churn rapidly. Arden became acutely aware of his sword within its sheath. He knew he could lash out at Saranbo even though the halberd would prevent his hands from reaching the heavyset youja. How well could Saranbo see in pitch black darkness?  
Before Arden was able to take the new sensations into his mental inventory, two katanas pushed the halberd aside, again saving his life. Both youja turned their heads to look at Saberstryke. "No fighting within the halls of the Order," the leader reprimanded them.  
Quietly growling, Saranbo stepped back. "Leader," he spat out, struggling with despised courtesy.  
Arden quickly scuttled away as the other two walked off. He had a strange feeling that Saranbo disapproved and barely tolerated Saberstryke's leadership. Was Saberstryke aware of this? Then, the newcomer looked around to find the slave-youja who Saranbo tormented, but the alienated wretch was also lost among the many faces of the crowd.  
No warning, the slave-youja shrieked out sorrowfully, "Virtue! You burn me!!" 


	3. Chapter3

"So I stand still  
  
In front of the crowd  
  
Excited faces  
  
What will be next?  
  
I still don't have a clue" – The Minstrel by Blind Guardian from CD "Nightfall in Middle-Earth"  
  
Gashura surveyed the entire Order. His master commanded him to find defects in the threat to the empire. The first five years of Gashura's mission were unsuccessful until he learned to speak with the younglings immediately before and after the contests. Several of the younglings had defected from the Only World Order during the past two decades, and no one suspected Gashura as the cause.  
Despite the incessant babble, he focused on his mission and waited patiently for the contests to begin. Then, he heard rumors: one of the Ancient's followers had become a youja. Intrigued, Gashura mingled with the crowd and learned more. The supposed follower ranted upon his arrival about justice and how youja could still maintain a part of virtue. Then, the follower tried to save the crazy hate-slave from Saranbo's taunts. Interesting indeed! Gashura wished he came to this meeting earlier.  
Then, he wondered where Saranbo was. Since the chattering had already lasted for over an hour, the contests would begin soon; the former navy captain was probably double-checking on the water beasts. Determined, he forcefully shoved aside the many youja that stood between him and the cages. A few growled, a few yelled insults, but all glared at him with wicked suspicion. As far as they knew, Gashura had no master; they viewed him as an ambitious loner waiting for a weak lord to conquer. He noticed them with the same amount of attention that a person would notice breathing or blinking.  
Sure enough, he found Saranbo near the water cages. The beasts howled as electric energy paralyzed them, checking their powers. Gashura peered inside the cage at the numerous plates, spikes, blood red eyes, claws, and gnashing teeth. The water beasts remained in perfect condition for the contests. Once Saranbo finished, satisfied with the results, Gashura commented, "I heard you had a little brawl with a follower of the Ancient One."  
The former navy captain growled. "I assume you are referring to that impetuous youngling, Arden?"  
Gashura stiffened in surprise at the eerily familiar name. Arden? Impossible, right? He chuckled inwardly at the concept of the youngling as the same man who he knew during his mortal days. "If Arden is his name. I recently arrived, and I heard only rumors. I heard a youngling intervened between you and the youja hate-slave."  
"That indeed is Arden, and he is weak!" Saranbo's eyes glowed red.  
Amused, Gashura wondered if the youngling was the same Arden he once knew or was a different Arden. "Do you know how this youngling became a youja?" he inquired. He remembered his mission and realized he could dwindle Saranbo's lands to raise his status in his master's castle.  
"No," Saranbo muttered.  
"Well, then, he is probably too ashamed of himself to admit being a youja. I cannot comprehend why anyone would bet on him in the contests."  
"True," Saranbo muttered. A spiked tentacle charged out from the cage bars; he swatted it back with his halberd.  
"There are plenty of other younglings for the lords to bet on," Gashura continued, ignoring the spiked tentacle. Saranbo was the most immediate threat to Talpa, and once he lost some of his lands, his nether soldiers could no longer rival Talpa's. "The youngling, Gogasha, is perhaps the most lethal. I spoke with him a few moments ago. While he was a mortal, he entertained himself by killing pregnant women and children."  
"Those are weak victims," Saranbo muttered skeptically.  
"True, but why would he want to kill those who have no ill intent? Perhaps he carries some hatred for them from his early past." Gashura left out the fact that Gogasha had only killed under a full moon; it signaled a potential weakness. He then proceeded to inform Saranbo of the other younglings.  
  
Two hours after all the youja of the Only World Order began to arrive, their leader unsheathed his two katanas and swung them horizontally, striking each gong at his side. All conversations ceased instantly as the Order immediately turned towards the leader.  
Then, the leader announced, "Soon, we shall defeat Talpa and regain control of our world!" Cheers promptly arose. "But first the contests should begin. A dozen younglings who have yet to find a master are at the Order today. After the bets are placed and the younglings have their masters, we shall prepare for the invasion of Talpa's lands." He stepped aside, revealing twelve new youja who all stood at attention. "Younglings, you may introduce yourselves."  
The first was Garyuda. He was an ambitious commoner when he was mortal. His skill at long-range weapons allowed him to conquer a few towns and villages until the local lord's samurai killed him.  
All of these younglings probably died in combat. How else should a person with hate die? Gashura thought.  
The second was Gogasha who gave a brute speech on how to slaughter annoying brats. He certainly caught everyone's attention. Perhaps he was stronger than Garyuda? Gashura took that time to speak with Saranbo about the second youngling. Yes, Gogasha definitely seemed stronger. However, the psychopath never told anyone that farmers killed his mortal form.  
The third was Soretsu, tall with a medium build. His armor was a midnight blue and a dark grey that merged and deepened to the point of becoming black as he showed off his sword skill. He had no forehead – one giant flat spike grew directly out of a deep ridge immediately above his two small eyes on his long narrow face. Two other spikes also grew, one on each side above the "ears." A cousin of his mortal ruling lord and the next in line, he helped in ruling the land and advised his lord. They succeeded in defeating their enemies until several assassins snuck in his tent and killed him. Five assassins were required. Impressive.  
The fourth was Hishige, neither short nor tall. His round squat helmet seemed to absorb the light. The only white in his thick armor were his three bone-colored horns, curving and protruding normally from the sides and front of the helmet. The blackness of his face dipped down into his torso. His limbs and the rest of his torso were gray. He wielded a huge spiked ball and chain. His feet resembled a wolf's or hawk's given humanoid form. His foul temper and strength caused his family to fear him while he lived. A fierce fighter, he forced old age to come and slay him.  
Well, well, my former comrade. Which wicked armor are you? Gashura wondered, growing anxious.  
Hishige stepped back, and the fifth youngling approached the front of the platform to introduce himself. The fifth's armor, perfectly conforming to his short and muscular body, was an ashen gray with reds and yellows melding together the pieces of armor. His round helmet was a pale blue like a frozen corpse with ridges and small numerous round bulges spreading across the back and top from where the ears should have been. Empty sockets replaced where his eyes should have been. Underneath the right socket was a giant tear of blood. The fifth youngling spoke nervously, "Um, my name is Arden. I have neither noticeable strengths nor a past that would interest you, unfortunately. I was a lord, but my family was not very wealthy, and I fought in a war to protect my lands. I was quite a strong fighter, actually. I died trying to protect my family."  
Gashura almost shouted at him in shock. Instead, he laughed ironically. Well, my old comrade, you really are here! Ancient be damned!  
  
After all the younglings introduced themselves, they were shuffled away to a waiting room while the nether lords cast their bets on who would be the strongest and in what categories of the contests. The youja lords gambled away their pools, their nether spirits, and their soldiers. It was a tricky, exciting and nonlethal method for them to gain more power.  
  
With a strange sense of nervous dead, Arden waited on a bench for his chance to enter the contestant ring. "I wonder what we will fight," he said aloud as Gogasha left for his battles. He suddenly worried that if he kept all his thoughts to himself, he might assume his current situation as imaginary and would lose his sanity.  
Another new youja with pebbly armor scuttled over to a small opening in the wall of the arena. His wide eyes, like an owl made out of stone, peered through the tiny opening. All the younglings heard Gogasha boasting, however his words were quickly drowned out in the din of cheering and jeering youja.  
"He's fighting some kind of animal," the pebbly youngling informed the others as they could only hear the rabble from the audience. From his accent, Arden knew he once lived as a villager or traveling merchant. Then, he jumped back in shock away from the opening. "That looked . . . very painful," he commented.  
Garyuda fought next.  
Arden began to worry, feeling his time to fight draw nearer. He looked at the other youja in the room. They were new to the netherworld like him. He decided to ask them, "When you were human, did you ever think you would be here after death?"  
There were several "no"s and a few "maybe"s.  
The pebbly youngling with stone-owl eyes took a brief break from watching Garyuda's battle to comment, "I'm certain most of us were too busy just trying to eat and live in the mortal world. We could not think of anything beyond life. I know I was. We must accept what happens to us and make the best of our situations. If I become a samurai of a powerful lord, even a nether samurai of a nether lord, then I would have made the greatest achievement of my entire existence." Then, he saw the youja farther in the back staring at him. He said quickly to those, "Oh, Garyuda's doing just fine. He's a lot stronger than Gogasha."  
Bewildered, Arden lowered his head thoughtfully. He wondered if the former villager wanted to be a youja.  
Then, Hishige said to the group, "Life is hard and harsh. We have to survive first and worry about the consequences later." The red glow flickered in his eyes and faded quickly.  
But what is the point of just surviving if it leads to the netherworld and away from heaven? Arden wondered. He feared to speak that thought or else enrage the other younglings. What is the point in living if survival is impossible?  
Suddenly, the former villager announced, "Garyuda's finally defeated." Soretsu entered the arena.  
Still thinking, Arden remembered what Saberstryke told him about the Order. All the younglings seemed nice. "Are you proud to be a part of the Only World Order?" he asked them.  
That provoked a deeper silence and more responses. Some were indifferent about the mortal world; others never thought about that at all; a few believed the purpose of being a youja was to attack the mortal world; while the rest either viewed the mortals as innocent and therefore unworthy of fighting or as disconnected from the netherworld and therefore pointless to slay.  
Soretsu killed beasts until exhaustion overtook him. Then, Hishige swung his spiked ball lightly on his way to the arena. The younglings were fighting in the order that they gave their introductions; Arden would be next! Nervous, he hurried to the small hole in the wall and tried to peer out, sharing the same space with the former villager.  
Hishige faced a land creature. Even though the tiny hole did not provide enough room to see, Arden noticed the animal's movements and concluded it had four legs. It was the size of a tiger with matted fur the color of decaying foliage. He could not see the head as it and Hishige began circling each other. Then, the beast charged forward and fell on the ground with a startled yelp. Hishige beat it repeatedly until it was dead. Then, the creature was removed and two more of the same kind brought in. Arden noticed they each had huge dog-like heads with teeth jutting out of their long muzzles. Their eyes glowed red. Hishige forced himself to move quicker to escape their bites. However, those two were killed with almost the same ease as the first, so three more creatures entered the arena. Hishige leaped to avoid them and attacked from behind. This battle proved more difficult, but he won. By the fourth battle against the land creatures, he was clearly struggling. His spiked ball radiated a dark blackish-gray light as he swung and hit. Even though he succeeded in the fourth round, everyone knew he could not win against five land creatures. The carcasses all smoked and shriveled into nothingness.  
The audience cheered for Hishige. Without warning, a shriek filled the air. Hishige spun around in time to hit a winged creature. Arden could not see that battle as well, but he noticed the spiked ball glowing grayish-black as sickeningly red energy radiated from the youja armor. Against two of the winged creatures, the blackish-gray streaks circled the red glow on Hishige's armor. Touching the streaks, the two beasts screamed in pain and died. However, in the third round the last animal waited until the others were dead. Then, it charged at Hishige from behind. Arden could no longer see the youngling as the steely feathers filled his vision. He assumed the creature lifted Hishige into the air. Suddenly, the winged beast shrieked. Blood and smoke erupted from its body. Then, Arden saw both Hishige and Saberstryke in the arena. The youngling appeared sullen. The leader of the Order had to save his life.  
"You might test your skill in one more type of fighting," Saberstryke informed the youngling and walked out of Arden's vision, out of the arena. Without warning, Hishige disappeared as well. Only the muffled sounds of battle could be heard. Arden waited, his dread and nervousness growing. Finally, Hishige emerged seemingly out of the floor.  
Arden stifled his urge to tremble. He never wanted to be in the netherworld! "Well," he tried to speak bravely as though to convince himself rather than the other younglings who heard him, "I am next, so I will go." He opened the door. The arena approached him menacingly.  
He glanced at the audience full of elder youja. They stared at him expectantly. A few jeered, but most were silent. They thought Gogasha would be the strongest, but that total defeat bewildered them; they reserved all opinions of this unusual youngling. So, it begins, he pulled his short sword out and listened for sounds of the first land beast.  
A snarl . . .  
Arden spun around with his sword outstretched and battle-ready. The beast leaped away from the blade and growled. It was definitely the size of a tiger with the head of a dog and sharp serrated teeth jutting out from under its muzzle. While people usually had two layers to their visible eyes – a smaller circle inside the white – the beast had a red circle inside the bloody pink. Its tongue was jagged like its teeth. . . . perfect for shredding armor, my skin, Arden thought bitterly. The monster lunged; Arden stepped to the side and thrust his sword between the shoulder and neck. Boiling blood poured out and evaporated into the air. Some dropped on Arden and stained his armor.  
The youngling repressed a shudder and prepared himself for the next two. Suddenly, he felt as though he could lash out at them without making a real movement. The two beasts charged simultaneously. He hit one on the head; blood dripped out of the side. He kicked the second away and screamed as its sharp claws scratched him. Furious, the first lunged again; Arden sliced off its head. Then, he circled the second. Intense bright hot anger and pride surged through him. Arden wanted to laugh. This is so easy! Why do I have to fight something so easy? When the second charged, he struck his sword down its throat.  
Three giant canine beasts! Arden felt interested. He also felt strange and scared, trying to grapple with some other part of himself with which he was not acquainted. I must kill! If only I could kill without staining my hand . . . let something else . . . He swung his sword in a manner that killed the first and shoved it into the second. Then, he jumped back and killed the third with a strike to its chest. He decapitated the second.  
Four land creatures wanted to tear him up. Arden easily killed the first but knew his sword would not reach the others. However, he was also aware instinctively that he could slay them without his sword. He outstretched his free hand. A narrow orange-red palm-size disk flew out and hit the second's eye. Two more disks killed the third and fourth.  
Laughing giddily with power, he proceeded to tackle five beasts. They collapsed all too easily. He always wanted to slaughter those who wished him harm! Wish granted!  
After Saberstryke saved him from the fifth land beast, Arden battled the winged creatures with their spiked and steely feathers, their beaks that ended in horns and their poisonous tongues. He killed three of those easily with his new skill but could not fend off the fourth.  
Dizzy, he hoped for a few moments' rest as he waited for the final creatures. The wooden floor gave way, and he splashed into the water. He tried to shake out his weariness and noticed a squid-like animal with spikes instead of cups covering its tentacles.  
  
Exhausted, Arden slowly stepped into the water pool. Garyuda, Soretsu, and Hishige lounged around in the yellow water and watched him enter with a mixture of sympathy and approval. Arden sighed, relieved as the water began to wash away the stains of animal blood that did not evaporate. A figure in the water exploded up, startling him.  
"Ha! I scared you! I scared you!" Gogasha announced cheerfully.  
"Hmph!" Arden waded to the other side.  
Hishige sneered at him, "Gogasha, you should not speak! You barely fended off three of those canines, and those are the weakest of all the nether monsters." The other younglings chuckled lightly. They thought the irony of Gogasha's strong statements and of his weak skills to be quite humorous. Excessive pride and confidence floated thickly around them. They were satisfied with how they survived their ordeals and with how they discovered their new skills.  
Arden sighed and leaned against the side of the pool until only his head and tips of his shoulders were visible. Even though he could not feel the animal blood wash away from his armor, he knew instinctively that he was becoming cleaner, more fearsome to others' eyes. I guess even the animals in the mortal world feel hate, he thought, but why would they hate? What could they hate?  
Then, Garyuda asked the other young youja, "How many of those flying beasts did you kill? Those were some of the most difficult. I killed four."  
"Three," Arden replied.  
"One," said Soretsu.  
Hishige had the same amount as Arden; Gogasha could not kill any.  
Suddenly, the sounds of rapid feet hurried towards them. Before Arden was able to turn and see the newcomer, another youngling plunged head first into the water. The youja with the stone-owl eyes popped out of the pool and shook the yellow liquid off excitedly. "Ha!" he cheered triumphantly, "Finally! I, Ishino, have won! I am victorious!"  
Arden wanted to smile at the former villager's good humor, but he laughed instead. "Congratulations."  
"How many of those water beasts did you get rid of?" Ishino asked excitedly. "I got five." The others stared at him in astonishment and answered him slowly yet truthfully. Arden, one; Gogasha, none; Soretsu, one; Hishige, two; Garyuda, one.  
"And how many of the land and air creatures?" Soretsu inquired of the youngling with stone-owl eyes.  
"Two land creatures and one air," Ishino replied.  
Soretsu concluded, "It seems as though how we fare in battle depends upon our natural skills in addition to our strengths before we became youja. While I was mortal, I was more skilled with swords, so I am naturally able to defeat more of those canines than those hawks and squids."  
Garyuda added, "My talents were in the long-range weapons."  
Hishige told the others, "Hand-to-hand combat."  
Without warning, Gogasha broke his silence and exclaimed, "I don't understand why anyone would kill when there's no moon out. The moon is so . . . commanding . . ."  
Ishino began swimming on the top of the pool's surface. Staring above, he suddenly gasped and lowered his legs until he was standing in the pool. "What is that!?" he exclaimed, pointing up. The other younglings lifted their heads to see a floating person whose body tapered with its pale blue robes. Its narrow blank face revealed nothing, not even coldness. A tall blue cap rested on its long head. The younglings stared at it in bewilderment.  
"I – I can't control it!" Garyuda spurted out, "I learned that I could control things from a distance, but this is impossible to control!"  
Arden looked quickly from the other younglings to the floating person. Was that thing there the whole time they were swimming and chatting?  
Suddenly the thing spoke! "I am a nether spirit in charge of informing new youja of the proper behavior and rules for living in accordance with the Only World Order. Certainly, one day you will want to live as lords rather than as warriors. Your instructions will begin once the contests have been completed."  
  
Younglings only had one choice – which master to serve. The lords all tried to hire a youngling with promises of power and by saying how powerful they were. Surprised to find a master, Gogasha agreed to work for lord Nezumi. Geography also played an important part in trying to get a youngling. Garyuda swore fealty to lord Kapei, whose lands were mountainous.  
Some younglings wanted to serve a master who needed and could appreciate their skills. Soretsu swore to obey lord Kazuhide. Hishige vowed to work for lord Gazaki. Arden was not certain which elder youja to work for, but he wanted to remain with a fellow youngling. He felt relieved when Kazuhide asked for his services, and he agreed to serve him. 


	4. Chapter4

"Far, far beyond the island  
  
We dwelt in shades of twilight.  
  
Through dread and weary days  
  
Through grief and endless pain  
  
It lies unknown  
  
The land of mine  
  
A hidden gate  
  
To save us from the shadow fall  
  
The lord of water spoke  
  
In the silence  
  
Words of wisdom  
  
I've seen the end of all  
  
Be aware the storm gets closer" – Mirror, Mirror by Blind Guardian from their CD "Nightfall in Middle-Earth"  
  
After delivering his reports, Gashura strolled through the seemingly decayed hallways of Talpa's castle. He wanted a little battle practice before he decided whether or not to visit Arden. The mildew and cobwebs appeared to be a part of the walls and ceilings rather than something else growing over those. The color of the castle, when actual color instead of the pervading darkness could be seen, was a dull unpolished gold - a pretty gem lacking in true beauty.  
With his peripheral vision, Gashura saw Kokuyoen approach from a conjoining hall. Kokuyoen was an elder youja who had obeyed Talpa since the beginning of his empire. He prided himself constantly over being his master's favorite warrior. Disliking the other youja, Gashura chose to ignore the elder's presence. Unlike Kokuyoen, Gashura focused more on gaining recognition for his abilities instead of straining himself for a position as Talpa's favorite.  
However, Kokuyoen followed him and spoke nervously, "Did our master inform you?"  
Startled at the sudden change in the elder, Gashura paused in his step and turned around. "Inform me of what?" Then, he noticed Kokuyoen's scale-covered legs were limping. Someone had beaten the most powerful warrior in Talpa's Dynasty.  
Kokuyoen's bulging eyes seemed ready to pounce out with rage. "You are walking towards the training hall. I thought our master informed you."  
Gashura wanted to growl in frustration. What did Emperor Talpa say? The youja who he detested was suffering both mentally and physically. He rejoiced and said, "I suppose speaking is too painful for you. It is quite amusing to watch you act worthless and weak."  
Kokuyoen merely laughed wickedly. "And you think you can take the place I once had as Talpa's most prized warrior?!" He continued chuckling and giggling. "Go to the training hall and see them for yourself! They are fun to tease and toy with, but beware our master's wrath!"  
Alarmed, Gashura hurried down the corridor. The candles along the walls rushed to light to guide him on his way. Never hesitating or stopping to calm himself, he thrust open the doors and saw . . . younglings. Young youja (were those really what had Kokuyoen so upset?) were practicing together with their weapons and playing clumsily in their new armor. Bewildered, Gashura gazed at them in confusion and wondered what significance their presence could mean. "They are very young," he stated to Kokuyoen as the elder youja walked next to him. "I suppose our master sent the Twin Sand Strikers to find them. I did not see them at the Order."  
The two dreadlocks swung sadly as Kokuyoen shook his head. "They are not younglings."  
"Then, how could someone so unskilled survive centuries in the netherworld?" Gashura hissed, confused.  
"They are mortals, humans. They are our master's most prized Dark Warlords."  
Gashura jerked back. His head immediately swung back to view the four supposed younglings. How could Talpa pick humans as his warlords? That was dishonorable, horrible, despicable . . . "Humans have no right as warriors in the netherworld!" he snarled out. "They exist only as food for our wickedness!"  
That shout alerted the four humans of the youja's presence. "Another jealous one!" announced an armored mortal with two giant spikes curving up from the top of its bulky brown breastplate, which was of the same piece as its shoulder pads. The armor on the arms and legs were deep red with brown gloves and shin-covering. The face-covering for the tree-brown helmet was also the bloody red color. Two giant black spikes grew out of the helmet and the tips stood far apart from each other, forming a perfect V.  
"Does he wish to challenge us?" jested another mortal, wearing a long gold and black piece of armor that looked more like a vest. A narrow triangular piece connected the two sides. The covering on the arms and legs were a medium blue. Sharp spikes erupted out of the joint-ends for the black arm and shin pads. The helmet was long and wide like the armor- vest with two white bull-like conjoining horns on front and a protruding horn in the shape of a scorpion's tail on the very top.  
Gashura prepared to leap down and beat the insipid humans for their foolish talk. Then, he saw a third mortal in bulky deep green armor with four crooked spikes coming out of the helmet. That mortal huddled close to the torch fires and practiced with katanas, the swords' acid flying around and landing in the flames, thus causing an even bigger conflagration. The third mortal then shivered and focused on spilling its chemicals into the fire. Neither of the other warlords was as cold.  
Then, Gashura realized that Kokuyoen had tormented that poisonous mortal with his black ice, but Talpa had punished him harshly so the elder youja now limped. Enraged, Gashura spun around and stormed out of the training hall. He desired to destroy those pathetic humans, but he feared his master's wrath more. He knew he would feel better if he were working. He decided to visit Arden. Perhaps his friend could give him information of the Order's plans.  
  
Arden fortunately befriended Soretsu. On their way to lord Kazuhide's castle, he discovered several admirable traits in the fellow youngling. Soretsu was very intelligent and respectful of Arden's ignorance. The swordsman's attitude remained neutral towards the Ancient One. "We all have lives that we must follow and accept," he said once after Arden spoke about the monk. Soretsu was composed among his new surroundings. Unlike Arden, Soretsu was rarely troubled.  
Near the end of their journey to their new lord's castle, they began talking about their former families. Soretsu had focused too much on expanding his cousin's lands when he was a mortal. He never once considered starting a family of his own, but he firmly believed that the members of a family should respect each other.  
Arden was once happily married and had three children. He was once a lord over a small amount of land. "My enemies always wanted what I owned. They envied my wealth and hated me for it. They hated my family as well because my children would inherit what I had. When my eldest son was patrolling my lands, my enemies captured him and cut him open. Then, they tied him to his horse and set the animal at a gallop so that his blood stained the grass for miles." He recalled vividly the memories of finding his son's lifeless and empty body. His internal suffering at the sight became almost unbearable. "I wish those fiends were the ones to scream as their blood poured out," Arden snarled angrily. He hated those memories! "I wish I was still able to walk through the mortal world to torture them." Then, he wanted to laugh bitterly. It was sad that he now had the power to destroy his enemies, but now he could never return to claim his revenge.  
"Your tear," Soretsu observed curiously, sounding composed even though startled. "Your blood tear underneath your eye is glowing red."  
  
Ishino sighed proudly as he and Garyuda explored more of their lord Kapei's castle. Finally, he was recognized and acknowledged by some of the highest people in the lands. Quite a few lords had clamored for his skills after the contests. Kapei seemed to be the most respectful and therefore the most appreciative. Their lord spoke approvingly to them and complimented himself for choosing such younglings. After arriving at the castle, they sensed in each other a hollowness that continued to grow; they were hungry.  
They then began searching for an energy pool and encountered one of the elder youja already feeding. The elder youja had curled into an animal- like ball, his oval sickly yellow helmet with sharp horizontal horns resting on his deep black limbs tucked close to his dusty brown body armor. Ishino and Garyuda marveled at how tiny he was as they circled the pool and sat down to feed. The energy pools were an indirect connection between the nether and human worlds; negative emotions from the mortal world traveled to the nether world through the energy pools and provided food for the youja. The younglings were becoming accustomed to this peculiarity. They learned that they could not affect the mortal world in any actual manner, but they could select certain humans from which to feed. Ishino searched for the drunkard who stabbed him to death at the tavern; that fool's miserable life never changed one bit, but at least his life was miserable. Garyuda found mortal lords to envy and to rejoice at their sorrows.  
When they finished eating, they realized the elder youja had awakened and was circling them swiftly. Startled, they looked up at his almost glowing eyes. The elder moved his long sharp claws in a wave to signify his power.  
"My lord informed me that he acquired some new lands during the bets and needed new youja to help him maintain those," growled the tiny elder. "Remember that I am Tosura, lord Kapei's most prized warrior. He chose his younglings wisely. I have not the slightest interest in battling you."  
Intimidated, Ishino felt grateful that Garyuda was with him. He tried to assure the elder that they meant no harm towards him, but Tosura growled a little more. "I only want a comfortable position as a warrior, nothing more," Ishino insisted. "I would not want to take your place as the prized warrior."  
"Hmph," Tosura muttered and ceased circling to face them.  
Still sensing the tension in the room, Ishino made a comment that he hoped would attract unanimous approval. "It's horrible that the Ancient One lied to us about the nature of the nether world. He said that only the evil become youja, but the just are also trapped." He thought insulting the monk would bring approval.  
"Don't fool yourself!" Tosura barked out reproachfully. "It is because of the Ancient One that I accept and enjoy my existence as a youja." Storming off, he threw his claws in the air and began muttering about silly ignorant younglings.  
  
Arden and Soretsu felt awkward in their lord Kazuhide's castle. The four arrogant elders avoided them distastefully. Only one, Tenashu, considered giving them a tour.  
"Our lord Kazuhide has the fourth largest land in the entire netherworld," Tenashu spoke didactically. He had three black horns on his helmet, the middle one being the largest. His round red faceplate jutted out. "There are over 100 youja kingdoms, each with an average of eleven main warriors. Then, there are also the numerous wanderers. Out of every thousand humans who die, one hundred become youja; nine hundred go elsewhere. Oh, here are your mansions," he said off-handedly.  
Arden and Soretsu eagerly walked inside, relieved to be away from the talkative youja. Their mansions were little more than spacious and decorative barracks with vacant shantytowns surrounding them and rooms for the nether soldiers surrounding them.  
"I am very unimpressed," Sorestu muttered.  
"Agreed," Arden said quickly as they looked around their mansions unpleasantly. Then, they sighed and stared out the door. They would have to return to Tenashu and continue the tour. Arden commented, "Tenashu certainly enjoys talking, correct?"  
"I think he enjoys words more than battles," Soretsu replied with slight disgust.  
"He is very pedantic. At least, he is willing to teach us something."  
With determination, they marched out of the mansion and resumed the tour with the elder youja. Arden tried to use the elder's talkativeness to their advantage. "What are those empty houses over there? What are they used for?" he inquired, genuinely curious.  
Happy to begin speaking, Tenashu answered, "Those were for the human slaves. They all died out a few decades ago. When Talpa invaded the mortal world five hundred years earlier, he brought several slaves with him. Those eventually fell into the hands of other lords."  
But we are of the Only World Order. We should not want to enslave humans or hurt them in any way . . . we are from two different worlds. A little bit of virtue dropped out of Arden's perception.  
"Our lord Kazuhide must be very proud of his status and his lands," Soretsu commented stiffly to the elder.  
"Yes," Tenashu responded, "The size and status of a lord's land changes frequently. He has the fourth largest land in the netherworld and requires more youja to conquer other lords and maintain his current status." After a thorough lecture on Kazuhide's history as a youja lord and a smaller lecture on waging battles, he added, "The only land to neither increase nor decrease in the past thousand years is the 23rd largest."  
Arden asked, "And which lord is that?"  
"Lord Saberstryke," Tenashu muttered sourly. He disliked talking of a lord superior in strength to his.  
"Ah, the leader of the Only World Order," he said absent-mindedly.  
Tenashu seemed confused and bewildered. Arden then discovered that all youja made a clear distinction between Saberstryke and their "leader." According to their mentality, viewing them as the same was impossible. After all, previous "leaders" while on normal youja lord business had conquered and killed their followers. Making a clear distinction between a lord and the leader prevented any feelings of betrayal among the Order. Only true betrayal could occur in a battle inside the Order's castle.  
  
"I am here to speak with the youngling Arden!" Gashura announced at lord Kazuhide's castle. The assassin had to shout out to reach all the youja inside. "He is an old friend of mine from before reaching the netherworld! My name is Gashura!"  
"How will we know you are speaking the truth?!" belligerently demanded one of the elders.  
"Tell him that we fought in the army together! I was his war comrade who died twenty years ago!"  
"Many people die in wars."  
Gashura stifled a growl. How dare this weak follower of the Order speak so cryptically! Fortunately, Arden then stepped out of the castle; they stared at each other, not believing what they saw. As youja, they could not recognize the other. They inquired and told each other bits of the other's past, asking questions that only the other would know.  
Then, Arden exclaimed in astonishment, "My old comrade! I cannot believe you are here in the netherworld of all places."  
"Are you truly so surprised?" Gashura wondered. "After all, during the war, I was the only one who openly cursed the Ancient One."  
"Yes, you did . . ." Arden remembered that little incident. After several nasty battles, the Ancient One appeared and tended to the wounds of both sides. The monk provided the opposing armies with food, medicine, and warm blankets. Hundreds of people from both sides praised him and cheered him, but Gashura accused the monk of being a traitor and of neglecting virtue.  
"You defended him and said that both sides were virtuous at heart. I asked, 'how could virtue fight and try to kill virtue?' Well, now, I understand."  
"Oh?"  
"I heard that the Order is going to invade Talpa's lands soon," Gashura commented.  
Since they were old friends, Arden spoke without reservation, "Yes, but first we are going to attack the lesser lords who are within his empire. Talpa is not likely to defend them, but they would fight for Talpa. Talpa will eventually have no one left to defend his castle."  
Gashura nodded, "That is just as I thought and a wise decision!" Some of the lesser lords annoyed Talpa. "Well, going back to our first discussion - since evil can fight evil, virtue can also fight virtue."  
"Not all youja are evil," Arden objected. The Only World Order, after all, wanted to kill Talpa.  
"Then how do people become youja and live in this hell?" Gashura countered rhetorically. A moment passed and then he asked his old friend, "Which one of Talpa's lords are you going to kill? I just might want to accompany you on your battles." 


	5. Chapter5

"What can we do with our lives

When it all begins

Come follow me

And you will see

How it will be

When all the pain is gone away" – Thorn by Blind Guardian from their CD Nightfall in Middle-Earth

Kokuyoen sullenly listened to Talpa's prized Dark Warlords training and bantering. This dishonor was worse than defeat and torture. Idly, he wondered where Gashura ran off. Even though he hated the young assassin, he preferred having him rather than those humans as a comrade. Kokuyoen was once a member of the Only World Order from the same year that Talpa arrived in the netherworld. Like all younglings, Talpa was also taken to the Order to find a master. They respected each other for their powerful abilities and harsh attitudes. For several years, they talked frequently about the netherworld and the mortal world.

Kokuyoen was one of the first youja Talpa had wanted to serve him. Following the rituals of the Order, Talpa requested his lord to fight until the death during one of the Order's meetings. A warrior challenging his master was the only fighting allowed at the Order meetings. Once Talpa won, he was considered a new nether lord, and all of the previous lord's warriors had to join Talpa or participate in the youngling contests. Kokuyoen then told the Order's leader to inform lord Tanaka, who he served, that one of his warriors would betray him. After Talpa killed Tanaka, Kokuyoen took his place at his new master's side.

Together, they planned to overthrow the Only World Order and to conquer humanity. It was tough at first, and everyone who served Talpa had to work hard. He and Badamon pooled their resources together and found several defects who gladly swore allegiance to Talpa. Then, began the victorious war against the Order. The previous leader was killed and after 500 years the Order seemed almost invisible. For over 500 years, Kokuyoen enjoyed the status of Talpa's best and most revered warrior. Even though Gashura appeared and gained a little of their master's favor, he refused to believe no one could usurp his position.

However, those warlords . . . mere humans . . . Talpa's precious pets . . . Kokuyoen seethed with fury and his eyes glowed with betrayal. Youja were made to rule youja and to serve youja! Did all of his centuries of service mean nothing? Was he now going to become fodder in battle while the weakling humans gain all the glory? Glory that they had no right to obtain?

Gashura sighed and let out one mirthless chuckle. "Arden, we spent quite a few hours reminiscing over the past, and you told me what you did after I arrived in the netherworld, but you still have no clue as to why you are here."

"I suppose I am here to help the Order defeat Talpa."

He wanted to laugh again at his ignorance. "Starting with lord Katashi."

"Yes, that is who the leader decided for us to attack."

Gashura nodded, "A very good choice." Talpa considered Katashi a nuisance. "Lord Masuyo should be your second choice after Katashi. He has been at war with Talpa for centuries and is currently suffering a major defeat. Likewise, Talpa's forces are also weakened." Masuyo was the youja closest to rivaling Talpa although neither one fought the other since Talpa became emperor. A battle between him and the Order could destroy both.

"Thank you. I will suggest that to the leader when I have the chance. I am glad we will fight alongside each other once again and against Talpa. Well, you know I serve lord Kazuhide; which lord do you serve?"

"My master is of no importance in our discussion. I must leave soon."

Peering in at the two younglings, Tosura walked slowly through the hallway towards his own sleeping chamber. Although youja could choose easily between a nocturnal or daytime lifestyle, most slept at night due to habit from living in the mortal world. Glancing away from the stony bed, he saw his master approaching and immediately knelt reverentially.

Kapei stopped in front of him and spoke bluntly, "You worry that one of these younglings will gain my favor."

"Jealously will never serve my master well."

"Of course. Tosura, you are my most trusted warrior and the wisest youja in the netherworld. Do not doubt me."

"Yes, my lord."

"Then, rise and stand." Unlike most masters and servants, Kapei and Tosura had an unusual relationship based upon mutual honor and deference. Kapei respected Tosura highly for his eccentricity and unique perspectives. "Now, tell me about my younglings. I trust your judgment. How loyal are they? Who will serve me the best?"

"Garyuda understands his limitations. He is not remarkably powerful, and he knows he must have a lord to serve along with comrades. He has no ambitions of high command, but he is not selective over whom to serve. I doubt he will be persuaded to betray you. Ishino is difficult to determine; he lacks wisdom and does not know himself. Currently, he has no ambition as a future lord. He will be either a great warrior or a pathetic warrior. I cannot give you a competent answer until he is aware of himself."

Kapei nodded, "Thank you. I have spoken to our leader earlier today; he agreed to make you the strategist for the war against Talpa. He already had scrolls listing who will fight in the first battle. Analyze their strengths and weaknesses; judge them well."

"Yes, my lord."

Within a few days, the chosen groups from the Only World Order began their march. Kapei, Kazuhide, Saranbo, and Sekogun. Each lord would lead his warriors into battle with the leader at the front of all of them.

Lord Saranbo gazed bitterly at the other lords and their warriors. He hated them all. They made a mockery of the evil netherworld. He had no choice in joining the Order; Talpa was already in power, and all younglings were immediately herded into the Order's contests. Like an ignorant fool, he had blurted out his real name and suffered disgrace upon disgrace for it. He struggled to break free from his master and establish himself as a power, but he eventually succeeded. Now again, he had no choice in participating in this battle alongside lords far younger than himself.

All the lords and their warriors were assembled a mile away from Katashi's lands where no one could see them. The leader gave them a brief speech and then introduced Tosura who would inform them of the battle's strategy. Saranbo remembered Tosura from the "strategist's" youngling days. Tosura was a youja of ethical standards, believing no one from the netherworld should injure a human on the mortal world; Ronin Warriors were an exception to his rule, however. Then, there was his unusual history from his former human life. Disgusted, Saranbo listened with forced interest.

Tosura was saying, "Katashi and his three warriors are not very powerful when compared to the rest of Talpa's Dynasty. However, he does own a large portion of springs and nether soldiers, which, while weak individually, are very powerful in an army. This battle is mainly for the younglings to practice and gain experience." Then, he proceeded to tell them the strategy. Sekogun, Kapei, and their warriors would be enough to kill Katashi's most powerful warrior, Haboro. Since he had the most warriors out of any lord in this battle, Kazuhide would divide his forces, leading his three eldest warriors against the second most powerful. Lastly, Saranbo, Soretsu, Arden, and Tokushima (another of Kazuhide's numerous warriors) would battle Gosoga. Since no one expected Gashura to arrive, no one figured him into the strategy, so he chose to fight alongside Arden. Afterwards, they would regroup in the front of the castle and charge upon Katashi.

As soon as they resumed their march, Arden ran through the ranks towards the leader. He bowed hastily and asked, "I was wondering which one of Talpa's lords we would fight after Katashi. An old friend of mine informed me that Masuyo is the most dangerous after Katashi."

"Which friend of yours?" Saberstryke inquired.

"Gashura. We were war comrades before becoming youja."

"The vigilante," he stated thoughtfully. Well under 100, Gashura was still a youngling and was perhaps still ignorant. "Masuyo is currently too powerful for the Order. Once we have all of Talpa's lands, we can attack him."

"But Gashura said he is weak from a battle with Talpa."

Saberstryke lowered his head to signify a worried frown. He would leap at a chance to defeat Masuyo, but information like that needed to be correct. As far as he knew, Gashura roamed throughout the Order's lands; perhaps that nomadic lifestyle enabled him to have more up-to-date information. Perhaps Gashura's uninvited arrival towards the battlefield was merely impudence and nothing else.


End file.
